


Second Skin

by Allekha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Costume Kink, Episode Tag, M/M, Masturbation, Mirrors, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:12:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16320653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allekha/pseuds/Allekha
Summary: It's the night before Onsen on Ice, and Yuuri should be sleeping. Instead, he's looking in his mirror, seeing how his costume fits, and thinking of Victor - Victor and Victor's costume and Victor's eyes on him.





	Second Skin

**Author's Note:**

> For Yuri on Runway Day 2: costumes

It's very late, and Yuuri should be tired after practicing dance in the middle of the night, and he has Onsen on Ice tomorrow and really, really should be in bed.

But he is still wide awake, unable to sleep. And instead of lying in his bed, he's standing in front of his mirror, wearing the costume.

Victor's costume. _His_ costume, at least for tomorrow, and maybe forever, though Yuuri hardly dares to believe it, as much as he wants to.

It fits him almost perfectly. It's a little tight in the shoulders, tighter than Yuuri would normally like. Victor was a slender teenager, and though Yuuri is shorter and thinner than Victor is now, he's not a teenager – wasn't as slender as Victor even when he was a teenager. The waist is perfect, though, and the hem of the pants hits his legs right where it should.

Yuuri's worn a lot of costumes. None of them have made him feel like this. Some have made him feel ready to skate, ready to dance, confident or nervous, but none of them have made him push his hair back in the mirror just to see how his face changes. It will fall forward again soon, with no gel to hold it there, but it sticks for the moment.

He doesn't look like Yuuri Katsuki, average skater, only on the special designated athlete list because everyone better retired within a couple years of each other and the juniors haven't caught up yet. He looks like... he looks like the most desirable woman in town, ready to dance – no. He looks like the man who will win her heart. He looks like—

He looks like someone who could seduce Victor Nikiforov.

Yuuri can remember how Victor smiled at Yuri when he tried on his costume. He'd looked pleased. But when Yuuri had shuffled back into the room after changing, Victor's grin had gone all the way up into his eyes, and Yuuri hadn't missed the way Victor's gaze had swept down to his bare feet, then to his waist, his shoulders, his face.

_It fits you perfectly!_ he'd said, and Yuuri is pretty sure he meant it in more than one way. 

The costume doesn't smell like Victor, or like anything except cloth. But it feels like him, somehow. Wrapped closely around every limb of his, from his palms to his ankles, stretching tight against his back when he loops his arms over his head and pushes his hands against each other, toward the ceiling. It feels like Victor touching him, his hands on Yuuri's shoulders, leaning against him to take a selfie near some quirky local landmark.

He can't wear this and not think of Victor, lovely Victor who captivated him from the moment he first saw him skate on a VCR in the Ice Castle. He was so graceful, so perfect, jumping lightly and always finishing with a smile. Yuuri had thought at first he wanted to be him.

It took a few years to figure out that there might be something else to the fascination. Another reason why he wanted to watch the video of that skate in Sofia with the shiny, slim costume that highlighted everything good about Victor's movements, over and over and over.

Yuuri sinks to his knees on the tatami in front of the mirror, eyes on their own dark reflections. He runs a hand down his chest, along the mesh, the crystals, the light half-skirt, smoothing the fabric down. It feels like he's wearing Victor, in a way, just by putting this costume on – this more than any of the other costumes Yuuri could have chosen.

He should be in bed. Instead, he rises up enough to start tugging at the waistband.

He feels like a pervert – if Victor knew what he was doing! – and he's grateful at the same time that the costume comes in two parts. With the trousers carefully folded and set aside, Yuuri takes a breath and undoes his dance belt as well.

For a moment, his fingers tremble as he sets it aside. But then he looks in the mirror again. He looks ridiculous – wearing half a costume, his cock already fully hard in his lap, hair half pushed back and half falling in his face. But he never knew his face could make that expression. Eyes lidded, the corners of his mouth turned up, like he's the loveliest human in town and he knows it and he wants Victor to acknowledge it, too.

He wishes that – well, he doesn't wish Victor was actually here. Yuuri would _die_. But in the mirror he looks like the kind of person who would draw Victor in instead, make him look enchanted. Yuuri might have brought Victor to Japan somehow (he still hasn't figured out how) but he could never – except like this, he could.

Yuuri curls the fingers of one hand and brushes them under his chin. It's a pose from a distant memory – maybe a shoujo manga he borrowed off of Mari once, or that dull figure skating romance movie that he and Phichit watched last year. In the mirror, his eyes are so dark that they look black. The movement should feel silly, the pose ridiculous, but he looks inviting, and he can, for a moment, seriously imagine Victor watching him, his pretty eyes wide, as he draws his fingers down his throat to the high black collar of the costume.

Down his collarbone. Avoiding the mesh to drift over the fitted black fabric, making him take a breath when the touch goes over his nipple – but he doesn't keep it there. Down the high belt with the silver crystals. Along the skirt that always added to Victor's movements on video, with its pretty gradient, the way it fluttered, the red lining peeking out – the lining is smooth against Yuuri's skin now as he adjusts the hem.

And then, finally, like he's teasing someone, he touches himself. Wrapping fingers around his cock makes him shudder, from his toes to his shoulders, and he has to force himself to open his eyes again. _Very eros_ , he can't help but think, and then the mental words repeat themselves in Victor's voice. His hair is still partially pushed back by some miracle, and he's wearing Victor's costume, revealing and hiding so much at once, and he's touching himself so casually.

He has to be careful with his hands – both of the sleeves cover his skin to the first knuckle of his fingers, and he doesn't want to get them in the least dirty. So he only uses the tips of his fingers, sliding them up and down, every movement careful, careful.

Yuuri doesn't really think of himself as sexy. Trying to connect with his program this past week has been strange. He's been struggling to step into a role he can't fill, a part he's not used to playing at all, even though at his age he should be able to. He's even taken pole-dancing lessons – but he was never that kind of dancer (no matter what compliments were thrown his way). The program would fit Victor much better, although at least Yuuri knows he can skate it better than Yuri could.

But now he can finally see what Victor must have pictured when he gave Yuuri that music, as he watches himself stroke his cock. _This_ is seductive, this is sexy, this is – he sucks in a breath and rocks his hips up. He bites his lip. Victor is not very far away. He must be sleeping right now, on the other side of that paper wall.

He's had a lot of practice being quiet. So he swallows the sounds he wants to make, although he does tip his head forward until it touches the mirror. The glass is nice and cold on his hot skin, and it keeps the last strands of hair that are still stuck back from falling into his face.

The light touches he is using right now are different from what he's used to. It shouldn't be enough. Except that he's wearing Victor's clothes, and he looks like the vision of what he first saw when he heard the story in the music, and he can almost feel Victor here. He's wrapped around Yuuri's waist and along his arms, twined around his wrists and hands; he's brushing, soft as satin, against Yuuri's thigh. He's almost staring out of the mirror, through Yuuri's clouded vision and memories of watching him, like it's him that's panting and moving into his hand instead of Yuuri.

His breath fogs the mirror as he strokes faster, trying for harder, but he's surprisingly close. Usually he has pretty good stamina, but he does really need to get to bed – he's supposed to skate in this costume not that long from now, though the competition feels like an eternity away – so he doesn't try to hold back. Yuuri wonders how he's going to go out in front of all of Hasetsu – in front of _Victor_ – after doing this, but he'll have to manage, since he doesn't have another costume that will suit the program.

He closes his eyes. There's the feel of the costume on his skin, the touch of his hand, the heat in his stomach building and building. He's almost there. He just needs—

It's shameless, but he thinks of the way Victor said his name earlier today, when Yuuri nailed a run-through of the program. _Yuuri_ , breathless, excited, for a moment Yuuri even thought – but then Victor had launched into a list of critiques. But he thinks about it now, imagines that it's what Victor would say if he was here now, watching this. _Yuuri_ , like he'd never seen anything so lovely, _Yuuri._

He comes on the mirror, splattered across the glass. It takes longer than it should to come down, shuddering with little aftershocks of the orgasm. Yuuri's too tired to move for some minutes, and then he forces himself to get up before he falls asleep against the mirror.

The costume comes off to air out before he has to put it back on in the afternoon. Yuuri cleans the dirty mirror, pulls on night clothes, and drops into bed.

It's just a costume. Pieces of cloth and whatever the crystals are made of. It shouldn't make him feel like that, do things like that.

But it's Victor's costume, and Yuuri's favorite, and the way it fit him, cocooning him in something of Victor's—

Yuuri has to make himself stop thinking about it to fall asleep. He needs to sleep before Onsen on Ice; he needs to win. Partially because he can't lose to a small teenager barely old enough for seniors, but mostly because he wants Victor to keep on coaching him. To eat katsudon with him. To see him.

To see him, in that costume, skating his program. Yuuri still doesn't know about sexy, but Minako had helped him with the movements earlier. And he's good at dancing. Better at jumps than Yuri, too.

And maybe, comes the thought, after what he just did, the costume will help him seduce Victor into staying.


End file.
